Chapter 2 No.2

My Dear One,

My first letter to thee was full of sadness and longing because thou

wert newly gone from me. Now a week has passed, the sadness is

still in my heart, but it is buried deep for only me to know. I have my

duties which must be done, my daily tasks that only I can do since

thine Honourable Mother has handed me the keys of the rice-bin. I

realise the great honour she does me, and that at last she trusts me

and believes me no child as she did when I first entered her

household.

Can I ever forget that day when I came to my husband's people? I had

the one great consolation of a bride, my parents had not sent me

away empty-handed. The procession was almost a li in length and I

watched with a swelling heart the many tens of coolies carrying my

household goods. There were the silken coverlets for the beds, and

they were folded to show their richness and carried on red lacquered

tables of great value. There were the household utensils of many

kinds, the vegetable dishes, the baskets, the camphor-wood baskets

containing my clothing, tens upon tens of them; and I said within my

heart as they passed me by, "Enter my new home before me. Help

me find a loving welcome." Then at the end of the chanting procession

I came in my red chair of marriage, so closely covered I could barely

breathe. My trembling feet could scarce support me as they helped

me from the chair, and my hand shook with fear as I was being led

into my new household. She stood bravely before you, that little girl

dressed in red and gold, her hair twined with pearls and jade, her

arms tiny finger, but with all her bravery she was

frightened-- frightened. She was away from her parents for the first

time, away from all who love her, and she knew if she did not meet

with approval in her new home her rice-bowl would be full of bitterness

for many moons to come.

After the obeisance to the ancestral tablet and we had fallen upon our

knees before thine Honourable Parent, I then saw for the first time the

face of my husband. Dost thou remember when first thou raised my

veil and looked long into my eyes? I was thinking, "Will he find me

beautiful?" and in fear I could look but for a moment, then my eyes fell

and I would not raise then to thine again. But in that moment I saw

that thou wert tall and beautiful, that thine eyes were truly almond,

that thy skin was clear and thy teeth like pearls. I was secretly glad

within my heart, because I have known of brides who, when they saw

their husbands for the first time, wished to scream in terror, as they

were old or ugly. I thought to myself that I could be happy with this

tall, strong young man if I found favour in his sight, and I said a little

prayer to Kwan-yin. Because she has answered that prayer, each day

I place a candle at her feet to show my gratitude.

I think thine Honourable Mother has passed me the keys of the

household to take my mind from my loss. She says a heart that is

busy cannot mourn, and my days are full of duties. I arise in the

morning early, and after seeing that my hair is tidy, I take a cup of tea

to the Aged One and make my obeisance; then I place the rice and

water in their dishes before the God of the Kitchen, and light a tiny

stick of incense for his altar, so that our day may begin auspiciously.

After the morning meal I consult with the cook and steward. The

vegetables must be regarded carefully and the fish inspected, and I

must ask the price that has been paid, because often a hireling is

hurried and forgets that a bargain is not made with a breath.

I carry the great keys and feel much pride when I open the door of the

storeroom. Why, I do not know, unless it is because of the realisation

that I am the head of this large household. If the servants or their

children are ill, they come to me instead of to thine Honourable

Mother, as they be too rare or heavy for one of my mind and

experience.

Then I go with the gardener to the terrace and help him arrange the

flowers for the day. I love the stone-flagged terrace, with its low marble

balustrade, resting close against the mountain to which it seems to

cling.

I always stop a moment and look over the valley, because it was from

here I watched thee when thou went to the city in the morning, and

here I waited thy return. Because of my love for it and the rope of

remembrance with which it binds me, I keep it beautiful with rugs and

flowers.

It speaks to me of happiness and brings back memories of summer

days spent idling in a quite so still that we could hear the rustle of the

bamboo grasses on the hillside down below; or, still more dear, the

evenings passed close by thy side, watching the brightened into jade

each door and archway as it passed.

I long for thee, I love thee, I am thine.

Thy Wife.